I grip the gun in my right hand, and a wicked blade in the left.
I burst right through the front door, stomping up the stairs. I'm not even trying to stay quiet. Those assholes sleep like the dead, anyway.
Getting to my father’s bedroom, I turn the handle and slip inside.
My father’s enormous bed rises like a monster from the center of the room on a raised dais. Two lumps lie there.
Tossing the blade in my hand, I thumb off the safety of the gun. Before I even wake them, I allow my creature out.
Whistling, I approach the bed.
“Wake up, you piece of shit,” I hiss, smacking my father in the face hard.
“What? Son? Why are you here—and with a gun!” he bellows.
“You surely aren’t that stupid,” I laugh. “You know it’s time to pay the piper.”
My mother wakes up, blinking at me. “Oh. I knew this was coming.” She turns to my father, and to my surprise, spits right in his face. “I hope you burn in hell.”
She gets up, moving to my side.
“Mother? Are you coming with me, then?” I ask for clarity.
“Yes ,” she strokes a hand down my cheek. “No real mother could ever choose otherwise.”
I stumble a bit over my words. “Go. Head outside to the car waiting. You don’t want to see this.”
I hit the speaker on my comm, relaying the development to everyone.
My mother scurries out, leaving me alone with my father.
He’s frozen in place, mouth gaping like a fish out of water.
I step all the way up, grabbing his hair and yanking his head back. Humming, I slowly draw the blade across his throat. Deep, but not enough to kill him yet.
He lets out a cry, fueling my monster more. My knife moves to his cock, and he stills.
“Turn over, on your knees. Clothes off. Now!” I bark.
He tries to talk, but I slice the knife close to him in warning. He scrambles to comply, stripping off his pajamas with shaky hands, and waves his hairy ass in the air.
I place the tip of the blade to his asshole, jabbing it into his rectum and slashing upward as far as I can. Blood pours, and I cackle.
His shrill screams are music to my ears.
I keep cutting; hoping I can make the opening big enough for my entire hand before he croaks. I've been very careful not to cut anywhere vital yet. The blood is heavy, but not enough to bleed him dry. But he will bleed out very soon.
I struggle to get my hand in, only managing three fingers. I push and root forward, reaching for his intestines. Grunting, I realize I can’t quite get them. Damn.
He is barely conscious now. I roughly flip him back onto his back.
“This is for me and Malishka, as well as my brothers! ” I curl my lip while I yell.
I cut a wide hole over his abdomen, digging deep. I cut and cut, until I can grab the skin and meat and lift it up. Whistling a little tune, I put my hand in the hole, grabbing his slippery intestines. Pulling them out slowly, I wrap them around my hand until I’ve got a hold of all the small and large intestine.
Remembering how Malishka grabbed Maxim’s heart, and smashed it in her fist, I do the same, crushing the vulnerable organs.
My father isn’t breathing anymore, but I can’t stop. I let the gun clatter to the floor and raise the knife over my head. Bringing it down sharply, I stab him on repeat.
